Coma
by ThisBookBelongsTo
Summary: Jim is rendered comatose and it is down to a certain Vulcan to bring him back... K/S mild slash - Not your cup of tea? Drink elsewhere. Simples*


Kirk and Spock #18 Coma

Spock looked down at the prostrate form of his captain and felt a tentative hand on his shoulder. Looking across he nodded gratefully at McCoy, comforted by his understanding. "A coma?" asked Spock again, and the doctor sighed. He had soon discovered that Vulcans do not enter a comatose state, and had had some difficulty in explaining the phenomenon to Spock. His task was not helped by the fact that it would have been unnecessary if it hadn't been Jim out cold in the hospital wing.

"I see..." The Vulcan sounded thoughtful. "Would you permit me to attempt to communicate with the captain, Doctor?" asked Spock matter-of-factly. McCoy quashed the hope he felt struggling to grow inside of him. 'Spock had never heard of a coma until ten minutes ago, and now he thinks he can cure it?' thought the doctor irritably. 'Doesn't he think I've tried everything?' He felt anger bubbling up at the thought that Spock was implying a lack of effort on his part, but he knew it was irrational, probably caused by the prospect of losing his best friend.

With great effort, McCoy regained control of his tempestuous emotions enough to reply, "Please, Spock." He was surprised to hear his voice gave no reflection of the breakdown he was suppressing, but he was relieved too. He would not give the Vulcan the satisfaction of witnessing first hand proof of his alleged superiority.

Spock nodded his gratitude again, and reached out a steady hand towards his captain. McCoy looked on, desperately hopeful in spite of his best efforts to the contrary. Fingertips connected with an unresponsive face and the doctor thought he saw Spock recoil almost imperceptibly. The Vulcan had closed his eyes, and the hand that touched the captain's face was trembling slightly.

Spock gathered his mind together as he melded with the captain, understanding dawning as he connected the inactivity he experienced in the normally energetic thoughts with McCoy's fumbled explanation of a coma. He had melded with Jim before, in the line of duty, of course. He felt somewhat at a loss without the guidance- or invitation- of his captain to direct him. _Captain?_ He tried, but there was no response. Spock reprimanded himself for expecting one.

Plunging deep into Kirk's mind, Spock recalled what the doctor had said about familiar stimulus having been known to revive coma patients. Something about connecting with their memories...

Wasting no more precious time, Spock delved into the most recent thoughts of the captain. He was impressed by the orderly state of the mind he immersed himself in, and surprised by its contents. He sorted meticulously through years of memories, and there was one reoccurring theme that the Vulcan felt certain he could exploit. Himself.

His angular features cropped up frequently. Everywhere, from at the Starfleet Academy to on the bridge of the Enterprise the week before, it was his face that was the focus of each scene it entered. He saw himself through Kirk's eyes, and barely recognised the elegant, sophisticated man whose everyday, unthinking actions stole his breath away.

Long, pale fingers manipulated his station on the bridge, and thin, dark lips moved in entrancing shapes, the accompanying voice both soft and rough at once. Spock found himself almost unable to break away from the rush of similar memories that presented themselves, as if the captain's unconscious were trying to please him by showing him more of itself.

With a metaphorical backward glance at sleek black hair and eyes that glittered in the Vulcan equivalent of a hearty laugh, Spock retreated to his own mind space without breaking the meld.

Turning over what he had learned, Spock felt both honoured and ashamed. He knew that he had witnessed something very dear to the captain's heart, because Jim never showed his true feelings to the crew and Spock certainly had been unaware of anything near this magnitude... it neared obsession. He had, via the frequent touches that the captain bestowed upon him, felt Jim's appreciation for his companionship, but he had never interpreted it as anything more. 'It would appear that my pride in my powers of observation and deduction have been ill-placed," mused Spock wryly.

Breaking the meld, Spock thought he detected an edge of regret verging on despair in the mind of his captain, but it was too late to return and investigate further.

"Spock!" McCoy sighed in relief. The Vulcan had been stationary for almost an hour, and he had felt panicked at the thought that melding with someone in a coma could have somehow affected Spock's own mind, rendering him similarly comatose. "Doctor," Spock greeted him cordially before delivering his report. "I believe I have discovered a possible stimulus that may be strong enough to recover the captain to consciousness. As I am unaware of the circumstances leading to his being in such a state as yet, I cannot say in what condition he might return, but..."

"It's worth the risk," McCoy interjected fiercely. He fancied that he could feel the life of his friend slipping through his fingers. He knew they called him the most competent doctor in 'Fleet, but right now he felt helpless- no, he was helpless.

Spock looked hesitant. "I would recommend that you depart the room while I attempt to revive the captain, doctor," he intoned. If McCoy didn't know better, he would have said that the Vulcan was nervous. "You may find my proposed action... distasteful." The doctor shook his head violently, a stubborn expression emphasising the lines of worry on his face. His crossed arms and defensive stance warned Spock not to push him, so he simply turned his back on the doctor and stepped up to Kirk.

McCoy caught his breath and watched, fascinated and apprehensive. 'What in Hell is he gonna do?' he wondered to himself. He wasn't left wondering for long, however.

Spock knelt on one knee at the bedside, and touched remarkably steady digits to the meld points on his captain's face. The sensation was the same as before, and Spock found himself once again encroaching on the mind of a man he respected and admired. It was an uncomfortable position, given what he intended to do as a result of his invasion of this sanctuary.

He tried to send reassuring pulses into the hollow mind, but was unsure whether his imagination conjured up the slight relaxation he felt all around him as a result. Withdrawing from the brief preparatory meld exuding apology, Spock found himself back in his own head, still knelt by the hospital bed, McCoy still watching with bated breath. Rising to stand over Kirk, the Vulcan bowed down so that their faces were close enough for his breath to tickle the blonde forelock that Spock had never seen so clearly before. He noticed all manner of details about Jim's face that he had never been able to observe before: the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the dark shadow cast by his full lower lip, the golden shade of his closed eyelashes...

Gathering together all of his courage, Spock touched his dry lips reverently to Kirk's. There was no response. The Vulcan felt panic creeping in at the edges of his mind and failed to check the unwelcome emotion. He took Kirk's head in his hands and inhaled deeply, concentrating on the vanilla scent that belonged only to his captain. Licking his lips, Spock gently touched his tongue to Kirk's pale mouth. He licked the pink lips wet and then replaced the tender licks with soft kisses, losing himself in the sensation of succumbing to a desire he had suppressed for so long without even realising its existence.

Spock forgot the passage of time and the Starship that continued around them as crew members oblivious to the state of their captain went about their duties. He even relaxed his emotional shields slightly, allowing his breath to quicken and his thoughts to wander.

A sharp pain returned him to the present. Touching his tongue to his lower lip, Spock was confused when he encountered the metallic taste of blood. Then cool lips met his and he gasped, pulling back in shock.

"Jim," he murmured huskily. Spock was not surprised to find himself forcing back a sob of relief.

McCoy, who had been unable to look away from the unexpected scene, felt the trance lifting at the mention of Jim's name. He rushed over to the other side of the bed, looking down to see his friend's eyes blinking in the bright hospital light and his lips parted as he wheezed softly, inhaling much-needed oxygen.

McCoy grinned, his whole face wrinkling up in joy as he rested a tremulous hand on his captain's shoulder. He found that no words could say what he wanted to express, but a look from Jim assured the doctor that his sentiments were understood, appreciated and reciprocated in full. Then Kirk's head rolled over so that he faced Spock, who stood stiffly by the bedside, hands clasped formally behind his back. He looked shyly at his captain, unwilling to meet his eyes. Jim knew exactly what to do: he took one Vulcan hand in his and gently massaged it, lightly touching his cool fingers to the hot, sensitive skin. Spock could not quash the look of surprise that transformed his face at the gesture.

"Thanks, Spock," murmured the captain hoarsely, forcing Spock to meet his gaze. His hazel eyes reminded the Vulcan of liquid gold, and they spoke volumes. "I... know you went into my head... and..." Kirk coughed, a rough, dry sound that made both his companions flinch.

"Captain, I can never apologise enough for my grievous infraction on your privacy. I recognise that I have crossed a line in my conduct today and I will accept your reprimand without question." Tiny movements and unconscious gestures gave away Spock's earnest regret and Kirk felt his heart weep at the sight of his First Officer so.

The captain held up a weary hand to stop him. "You did see my thoughts?" A nod. "Then you must have guessed how I would feel about what you just did?" Another nod, then a hesitant reply:

"Vulcans do not guess, captain."

Jim chuckled. "Of course they don't, Mr. Spock. Then, answer me just one question: did you do it for me, or for you?"

Spock was stunned into silence by the captain's question. 'How he can question my motivations is beyond me,' the Vulcan thought irritably. Aloud, he said, "For... both of us, captain."

"Jim."

"...Jim."

McCoy looked on through the entire exchange with an unexpected feeling growing in his breast. He felt pleased for them. The doctor had always harboured a deep distrust of Spock, but what he had just witnessed was nothing short of a miracle in his book. 'Any fool could see they're perfect for each other,' he thought, 'so why'd it take me so long?' He watched them looking awkwardly at one another, each allowing the love they had nurtured for so long slowly be revealed in the passion of their gaze and the intertwining of their fingers. "For Christ's sakes, just kiss already!" he groaned in exasperation. He knew that this could go on all night, and if he didn't act he was afraid they would both just throw up their damned mental shields and it would be six months of awkwardness before returning to where they had started two hours ago.

Jim gave McCoy a sidelong glance, and the doctor saw an abashed blush colour his cheeks as he turned back to Spock. The Vulcan knelt and bowed his head almost worshipfully, and Jim met his parted lips in a tentative kiss. Their lips danced gracefully, natural partners, and McCoy grinned in spite of himself. 'A happy ending is the least they deserve after all they've been through to get here,' he found himself thinking happily. It was a sign of his euphoria that he didn't mind how _soppy_ it sounded.

Author: T'Laia 4


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